JMJ

CHAPTER FOUR: SOME CHANGE IS GOOD

They weren't at the usual hideout. Of course, that had easy access to the palace, and without the Big Cheese living there as prime minster it would be more of a detriment than a help to linger there. He tried a few others. A lab. An old abandoned warehouse. All the old haunts. The Ninja Crows were nowhere to be found, and Jerry was beginning to wonder if they had all gone back to the ninja village.

It seemed the most likely place after he thought of it. Bad Bird would have had them withdraw from the city to train and wait. Maybe they thought Jerry dead, but either way with Bad Bird in charge there would be little funny business most of the time.

He had not brought anything with him for the trek through the woods to get there by himself, but just as he was turning around for the city again to get something to eat, he paused suddenly and turned back the way he had been going. His purpose was not in going further toward the village, but he thought for certain that in this back street on the edge of town, he had seen a shadow that had looked vigilant before it had swept away. Holding his cane out in case he may have to use it (he hoped it would not come to that as his confrontation abilities in physical combat were not what they used to be), he shifted his eyes left and right. Though he saw nothing, his ninja senses told him that someone was nearby and moving with purpose towards him.

A flash of wing, as small and insignificant as it was, lowered his need for defense.

It was only a crow, and one of the many he knew as his subordinates.

"Master Jerry!" cried the little crow with a funny little voice. He landed and bowed before him on his knees with all humility. "It is you! The clan will be so happy to hear that you're back! Oh, we had given you up for dead."

"As I thought," muttered Jerry. "Get up. You're in the middle of the road."

The crow obeyed, but still had his head bowed a little.

"Where are you all staying now?" Jerry demanded, his voice lowered, and his eyes careful for any unwanted spectators. "Where's Bad Bird? I want to talk to him as soon as possible."

The only sounds of people here was a vacuum cleaner in the house nearest them. At least this muffled their speaking. As he returned to the sight of the rather sheepish looking crow, he raised a skeptical brow.

"Come on, you must be staying somewhere!" Jerry hissed.

"Oh, we're staying at the village mostly," said the crow brightening a little, or maybe it was nervous tension, "but some of us are posted around here on the edge of the city to keep an eye on things. I'll give the signal and show you where our new hideout is around here, Master Jerry."

Flying up into a tree then, the little crow cried as loud as he could, "Old phonebooks for sale!"

Then he flew back down and led Jerry quite happily into the wood.

"Old phonebooks?" asked Jerry.

"Well, we had to think of a signal that no one else would come to," explained the crow. "We had a moose call for a while, but even though there shouldn't be any moose around here some must have escaped from a zoo or something because they kept coming and trampling everywhere and attracting people who had never seen a moose to investigate before their keepers came. Then those Pizza Cats came and thought we were stealing the moose. Oh! It was a mess, Master Jerry. But ever since we used our new signal no one's come. In fact sometimes people run away."

Jerry frowned, but he said nothing more until they reached a fairly well-hidden tree house. Here, of course, Jerry proved that he could fly a little distance. No one but birds could get to it easily, for there was neither ladder nor very accessible branches toward the bottom of the tree in which the house was hidden with moss and leaves cleverly positioned.

This place looked to be Bad Bird's doing at least. Jerry smiled with satisfaction at this thought, and for a moment he felt proud of his clan. He had not over-credited them, after all.

The six or seven other crows positioned in this area all flew back within the next few moments as Jerry looked inside the simple, but clean interior of the small structure. There was a low table surrounded by cushions, some rolled up mats for sleeping in at night, and a very nice refrigerator that was solar powered by a panel on the roof as the crows explained to Jerry.

There was still no sign of Bad Bird, but the head of the little band here, told one of the other crows to go back to the village to announce Jerry's return. Then the rest of the crows all hurried to make Jerry comfortable. They made him some tea in a little chimney, and gave him plenty to eat from their fridge. Jerry allowed their devoted behavior for now as he was quite hungry, and he missed having his own clan taking care of things rather than Dr. Purple's robots.

When at last he had eaten his fill and was on his last cup of tea, the rest of the fighting members of the clan showed up at the tree. Most could not fit inside, but they were satisfied to sit around in the branches outside. The windows of the little hideout were opened, and everyone was able to get in on the situation. It seemed the best situation in three years, and Jerry felt quite the celebrity despite the fact that it was only his own clan doing the celebrating.

"You don't know how much we missed you, Master Jerry!" "Everything will be better now that you're here again!" "You don't know what it was like without you!" "Have an after-meal ginger candy, Master Jerry!" And so they went on in their merriment.

However, everything changed as he looked around once more, cozy with a full stomach and sipping his tea, for it was then that he asked, "Okay now. Where's Bad Bird? I want to talk to him."

Dead silence fell upon the once jubilant crows. Not a caw could be heard among them.

Jerry stiffened in alarm. "Don't tell me he's dead! Was it the cats!?"

"No, no, Master Jerry," said a crow by name of Nick that had been shoved most unwillingly toward Jerry by his fellows. He had been the one in charge since Bad Bird and Jerry left as he was the closest relation to Jerry and Bad Bird. "It's not that."

"Then what?" demanded Jerry.

"Well, he …"

"Yes? Spit it out? He started his own stupid band like Bad Max?!"

The little crow shuddered and fell flat on his face before Jerry. "No, master, it is so far more shameful than that that we dare not speak of it."

Jerry stood up angrily. "I demand to know!"

"He quit the ninja clan and never returned," gasped Nick shivering with sweat spraying from his face.

"What do you mean he quit?" demanded Jerry. "Where did he go? Did he leave for Mongolia or something?"

"No, he's still in the city. It's not like that at all. He quit being a ninja altogether. He's disgraced us!"

And now the others joined in.

"After the comet, he didn't come back!" "He's married to Carla." "He owns a restaurant." "A pizza restaurant!" "He's gone straight, Master Jerry." "The cats were at his wedding." "He didn't invite us!" "We don't know him anymore!" "He volunteers in the city when business is down." "He LIKES helping people!" "But we tried to keep up the clan!" "Honest we did!" "Under Nick." "Yes, Nick." "Yes, I've been doing my best." "We fight the cats sometimes." "We got away with that birthday money from the post office." "Right! And spruced up the village a bit and bought that refrigerator." "Yes!" "We've been doing the best we can without Bad—"

"Enough!" snapped Jerry.

Everyone stopped and shuddered, and Jerry knelt back down on his cushion as he tried to digest what had just been told to him and not let the news shake him into an upset stomach after all he had eaten. Not all the details, just the fact that Bad Bird had betrayed the clan and was married was almost too much to take in at once, and rubbing his head as though in pain he let out a growl before placing his hands calmly upon the table.

"Well," he said after a time and clasping those hands together. "Tell me then, crows, as honorable ninja why did you not act according to tradition and do what ninjas do when they are betrayed?"

"Master…?" asked Nick after another pause.

"Why didn't you sneak up on him in the middle of the night and stab out his perfidious, traitorous, double-crossing heart!?" Jerry demanded.

The crows let out cries of surprise at his sudden burst of rage, and from his use of the word "perfidious", which most of them did not know the meaning of.

"Oh, but we couldn't!" they told him beseechingly. "We couldn't kill Bad Bird!" "We didn't even try!" "We didn't have the heart." "He's our brother!" "Our commander!"

"Idiots!" said Jerry. "Weaklings! You're all sorry excuses for ninja! In times of old you all would have been slaughtered without a thought!"

The crows shuddered.

"Forgive us, Master Jerry!" Nick said, and they all bowed before their master in fright and dismay.

"All of you just knock it off! Quit groveling!"

They tried to, but though they stopped quivering they still looked quite fearful and guilty like a gathering of naughty puppies caught in the act.

"It wouldn't've mattered anyway," Jerry muttered with a sigh more to himself than to the underlings. "Bad Bird was better than all of you put together and could have defeated every last one of you before he had so much as a scratch."

"Do you want me to sob and punish myself for it, Master?" asked Nick.

Jerry glowered with annoyance. "Yes, you do that for a few hours," he said sarcastically.

Tears welling in Nick's eyes as he backed up into a corner and he began to sob punishing himself as he had suggested.

With a roll of his eyes, Jerry sipped to the bottom of his cup. "Where is Bad Bird now?" he demanded.

"At his restaurant probably, Master Jerry," said one of the other crows.

"Do you know where it is?"

"Oh, yes, very well," said that same crow, the one who had found him on the edge of town. He paused. "Are you going to kill him?"

"I don't know yet," said Jerry.

Besides, he thought, even if I wanted to, Bad Bird would most likely defeat me too unless I poisoned him very cleverly. I taught him everything I know, and he's at the prime of his life unlike me, I hate to admit. He's changed sides, but he doesn't have amnesia, after all. He's still inside the best ninja of the Flying Skulls.

So, since his tea cup was empty and he felt no need to rest or eat any longer, he picked himself up and decided to make for the restaurant with the aid of his still loyal crows. And they took him to a restaurant in the middle of Little Tokyo.

It was tall with a nice lot, had flashing neon and a tower on the top.

"Pizza Cats!" gasped Jerry in disbelief as he read the sign. "He works at a place called 'Pizza Cats'!"

"Oh, no, Master Jerry, he works at the one across the street," said the two crows who had accompanied him.

Jerry glanced at the place the pointed out, and he frowned. At least it wasn't called anything that had to do with cats, but it was not much better. A pizzeria was a pizzeria. He squinted at the smell of pizza emanating from both sides of the street as he tried to see if he could spot Bad Bird through the windows of his restaurant. He could see no one at the moment except a couple of eleven o'clock eaters making their way inside.

Like the restaurant behind Jerry it did not open until eleven either. (If you want pizza for breakfast you can freeze it yourself for the next morning.)

"Hmm," said Jerry. "Fly out of sight. I'll look into this myself from here on in."

"Yes, sir," said the crows as they obeyed the command.

And with that Jerry began leisurely to cross the street. He was in disguise with a traveling hat and simple clothes. No one would notice him as anything other than some poor old man with a stoop, which he exaggerated for show as he walked along with more help of his cane than he needed in reality.

Some passerby came his way, and he barely looked up to see his face. His mind was more interested in their pockets, which he slipped his hand into with relative ease. Yes, he knew how to pickpocket when he had to, and he had no money at the moment. He had the wallet in his claws within seconds and its original owner kept going unaware.

Glancing over his shoulder a second just to make sure, Jerry then turned his attention to the wallet as he continued walking. He opened it up and saw to his disappointment that not much was inside.

"Hmph," he grumbled, but he had barely gone another step before he ran completely into another person who had suddenly shouted, "Wait up!" to the one who had just crossed before him.

So much for ninja stealth.

"Ack!" cried the one who had run into Jerry. "Sorry, sir, I didn't mean to run into you! It's just been a rough kind of day, y'know?"

Slipping the wallet away in a hurry, Jerry waved his hand aside.

"Yes, yes, I know. It's fine, it's fine," he said from beneath his hat, and he waved his hand aside.

"Are you sure?" asked the other, a cat no less, much to Jerry's distaste. He picked up Jerry's cane and gave it him. "You're not hurt? You're not mad? Everything alright? You didn't drop anything else?"

Jerry swiped the cane away. "No, thank you!" growled Jerry. "Now please be on your way. I'm fine!"

"Okay, okay," said the cat and he hurried away, calling again, "Hey, Guido! Wait up!"

Guido?!

Once more Jerry stopped and watched the cat catch the other.

No. It couldn't be them, thought Jerry. It would be too obvious …

And yet …

He shrugged, and reached the other side of the street at last with his mind again only on Bad Bird and his restaurant.

#

Speedy sighed. "Francine's not gunna like this."

"I don't like this," grumbled Guido shoving hands into pockets that he suddenly had.

Just as Guido and Speedy reached the door, Guido suddenly stopped.

"What?" asked Speedy.

"My wallet!" gasped Guido. "It's gone!"

"Gone?"

"That creepy little hawk must've stolen it! Wasn't three hundred dollars enough for him!" said Guido staunchly. "Now we have a reason to bust him, at least!" He held up a fist to show he meant business.

"No, no, wait, Guido!" said Speedy. "You had it when we were on our way back. I saw you see what was left. Besides I think I know what happened to it."

"You do?" said Guido raising a skeptical brow, and he crossed his arms impatiently.

"Yeah, that old guy had a wallet that looked just like yours," said Speedy. "He was right …"

Speedy pointed, but what he pointed to no longer existed. The old man was nowhere in sight. Turning from left to right and up and down, Speedy thought that he might as well have vanished away into thin air.

"There," finished Speedy regardless, and he put his hand down. "Hmm, where'd he go? Well … at least all that was in it was a few bucks. At least we don't have to carry IDs in Little Tokyo. You don't have a credit card, do you?"

"He stole my wallet! I don't care what's in it! He stole it!" snapped Guido. "Can this day get any worse?! Come on! Let's go find him!"

"But what about work?" asked Speedy. "Francine will be mad enough as it is, and if we're late Polly and Francine both will be mad."

The door suddenly opened.

"You're a few minutes late already," said Francine cheerfully as she poked her head out the door, "but if you come in right now, we'll forgive you. Besides, it looks like the toaster's all fixed up. Why the long faces?"

Speedy and Guido sighed.

#

Across the street in a very similar sort of restaurant because it too served pizza but for some reason did not ruin too much business for the Pizza Cats, was a less melodramatic setting of a very contented, reformed Bad Bird.

Business was good, life calm. He could have used a few more people to work at rush hour, but otherwise he could not complain. Sometimes he did hire a couple other people living nearby when things got too hectic. But right now he really could not be bogged down by anything. He had a perfect little home upstairs. No Big Cheese. No Jerry. Only a sweet little wife and he had just recently, just last week in fact, became the official father of four beautiful eggs.

And he had a new name too to fit his new life. Originally the cats were starting to call him "Good bird" for lack of anything better at the time, but when Carla went through the baby name book for their children, she came up with the brilliant idea of using one of the names for him since he told her that his official name could not be "Birdy" however much he did not mind if she called him that.

Bad Bird heartily chose for himself the name of "Nobu". It was something Japanese. It was Japan, after all, even if a chibified anthromorphic version of it. There should be more people with Japanese names. The cats were still getting used to the name, and sometimes called him something "Bird" instead. He did not care so long as he had a name he could fall back on, and "Nobu" was clean, solid, and unique enough in the city of Little Tokyo that he felt quite pleased with it.

Right now Bad Bird, or Nobu, smiled as he stood in the doorway where he watched Carla sing softly to the little eggs in their cradle-nest.

Oh, he was beside himself, simply beside himself, in the best possible way. He could not see the little ones yet, but he felt it to be such an honor to have such a wonderful life, and he knew that once the eggs hatched he would have an even more wonderful family life.

"I'll be down soon, Birdy, I promise," she cooed still with eyes on the eggs.

"Oh, no, come when you can," said Nobu. "I was just seeing how you were. I just opened up. I only hope the new recruits work out. I got them started downstairs."

"Oh, don't worry, Birdy," said Carla. "I'm sure they'll be just fine. Don't be so hard on them. They're only sixteen."

There were only two. They couldn't afford to hire more workers than that, but he had to do something about the staff issues there.

Carla had to stay with the eggs most of the time. Sure they did not need to physically do a whole lot except make sure their heated cradle was at a good temperature and turn them every now and then, but the chicks inside the eggs needed to hear their mother's voice. She could bring them down with her in a pack on her back, which she often did, but it would not be too long before they would, as hatchlings, need her constant attention.

Nobu smiled, and without a word slipped down the steps with as light a step as ever he had.

The juggling of work and parenthood did not worry him, for two reasons. One, he did not quite understand how much work four babies at a time are. Two, when the children grew older they would help with the restaurant, and Nobu would have a real family business.

It was not an overly-busy opening, which was good, but enough to show that work was off to a good start. The young pig and duck seemed to be doing all right; the pig in the kitchen with an older hired worker who happened to be an old hen named Tina, and the duck as a waitress to the gathering of four at a table by the window. Another pair at a table nearby were already eating their pizza, and as he reserved deliveries for himself because he liked to go out and about (and yes, admittedly sometimes to try to outdo Speedy in a friendly sort of rivalry — he couldn't help himself), he made his way over to where the orders were usually collected. There was only one at the moment, and the pizza for it was not yet finished.

He glanced at the duck suspiciously, for it was possible that she forgot to answer a phone call, but he let it be for now. His attention was drawn instead to the old man who had just entered the pizzeria.

The old traveler looked tired as he leaned heavily upon his cane, and he a little irritated besides. He sat himself wearily down at a table near the door and said nothing, waiting patiently to be noticed. Good thing Nobu was observant.

"Can I get you something, sir?" asked Nobu. "Tea? Coffee? Soda? I'll get the menu for our different pizza specialties, and we have breadsticks of five and half varieties. Sauce dishes to dip in come complementary."

"Just tea, thank you," muttered the old man in a fashion that imitated Gandalf in the Lord of the Rings films.

"Yes, sir," said Nobu. "China Oolong or fresh matcha?"

"Matcha, thank you," muttered the old man.

"Matcha it is, sir," said Nobu. "And if you do happen to need anything else, don't hesitate to say so. There's a dessert menu too. We just added chocolate fudge Sunday to it."

"I'll keep it in mind," said the old man. "But I'm in a bit of a hurry and will probably only have time for tea."

"Very good, sir," Nobu said departing with a bow, and as he withdrew he caught the duck waitress. "Matcha for the gentleman at the door, Lilly."

The duck nodded readily to do as she was told. "Oh, and Willy just finished the pizza for the delivery."

"Oh, good," said Nobu, and taking the basket from the counter he said, "If Carla comes down, tell her I went on a long one." The delivery was for far out, which he did not mind in the least.

He did not hear the old man mutter something disagreeable under his breath as Lilly poured him his tea. Nor did he take great note in the way the old man eyed him suspiciously from under his hat. Nobu was in work mode. No suspicions crossed his mind. But there was no excuse for his not noticing the sudden decision of the old man to move his cane right in Nobu's path as he passed by the table.

"Krra-a-w!" cried Nobu, and he tripped right over it falling flat on his face.

The pizza spattered out of the basket and onto the floor.

Anger flared. He still had a temper. It was not a thing he had quite conquered. Up on his feet in a moment he turned around and instantly saw what he had tripped over. His eyes flashed without warning onto the old man glancing innocently out from under his hat.

"Oh, are you alright, I'm sorry," said the old man placidly.

A low growl formed, but Nobu stifled it. Straightening himself with a sniff, he retorted that yes, he was just fine.

The pizza wasn't though.

"Now their pizza will be late!" he grumbled to Willy as he picked up the sloppy mess of what remained of a once perfectly good pizza.

When everything had been cleared up, Nobu could not help but notice that not only had the old man left, which in itself was just fine. There was something about him that he had not liked much, and he had not even left a tip.